The First Birthday
by jankmusic
Summary: As Molly Hooper's birthday quickly approaches, Sherlock Holmes is at a loss as to what would be a satisfying gift for his pathologist. Thankfully, John Watson is still around to talk at and brainstorm with, even if he takes the mickey out of Sherlock in the process.—Part of the One-a-Day Challenge


The First Birthday

Prompt: Expectations

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

* * *

Sherlock Holmes paced the lab of St. Bart's hospital silently, scouring his Mind Palace for clues or idea about his situation.

Molly Hooper was turning one year older in less than a month and he had yet to purchase a gift. John had been adamant of gift giving in relationships, and Sherlock was reluctant to agree; average couples exchanged gifts for Christmas and birthdays, and he knew he wasn't an average person, but Molly deserved at least something for the day.

Especially since she, with the help of Mycroft and Mrs. Hudson, renovated 221C and turned it into a miniature lab and an office for his birthday.

To this day, Sherlock was still floored that Molly managed to get the downstairs flat prepared without his knowledge. She did benefit from the fact that he was on a case in Cardiff for two weeks right before his birthday.

"Coffee? I was about to—what's wrong, Sherlock? You're about to burn a hole into the floor."

Sherlock glanced up to see Molly standing in the doorway. She was still wearing her scrubs, which meant she had just finished the autopsy she had been working on earlier.

"I'm having…difficulties thinking of proper gifts for your birthday," he said honestly.

Molly smiled brightly at him and walked into the lab, allowing the door to close softly behind her. She reached him in a few strides and stood on her tiptoes to peck him on the cheek. "Don't worry about my birthday present. I don't need one, not really." When she stepped away from the chaste kiss, she could see that Sherlock was dissatisfied. "We can have breakfast if you're not working a case."

* * *

Nestled into her sofa with Toby purring contentedly, Molly jumped when Sherlock dropped onto her couch; she didn't even hear him come into her flat.

"I've tried deducing how you liked previous gifts, but I can't determine what you've actually received as gifts." Sherlock leaned his head back and crossed his arms over his chest, sulking quietly. Molly giggled and gently pushed Toby off her lap and crawled closer to Sherlock, plopping her head into his lap. She looked up at him as he looked down at her.

"You could always try asking instead of deducing," Molly said, a soft smile spreading across her face. She had been encouraging Sherlock to ask questions instead of deducing from her, which decreased the amount of times he said something "a bit not good" about her.

"Ah…" he said, carefully removing her hair from its ponytail so he could run his fingers freely through her locks. "I always miss something."

"It's alright, you're still adjusting to being in a relationship. I'm not upset."

Sherlock furrowed his brows and continued running his fingers through her hair. Finally he asked, "What has been your fondest gift?"

Molly thought for a few moments, chewing on her bottom lip. Then her mouth twisted into the sad smile he associated with her memories of her parents. "It's a bit silly. Have you ever seen the film Free Willy?"

Sherlock shook his head. "I have not."

"Well, it's a family film. It came out when I was thirteen, I think? Anyway, Mum and Dad took me to see it at the cinema. It's about this poor boy who befriends an orca, or killer whale. They're both "rejects of society" I guess. The boy eventually helps train the whale, but the whale ends up not doing what he's supposed to, so the owners decide to kill him." Molly paused for a moment as Sherlock stared at her raptly, listening intently. "So the boy, and the other two trainers, and his adopted parents decide to free him. And they do, and he's reunited with his family again in the end."

"And you saw this film for your birthday?" Sherlock prompted.

"No." Molly shook her head. "I became obsessed with whales after that. I started studying them and watching as many films and documentaries as possible. On my birthday, my Mum and Dad gave me this certificate, thanking me for my contribution to the Save the Whales foundation. At the end of the film, there was a 900 number you could call to donate money. My parents donated one hundred pounds on my behalf. And we weren't very well off, so it was a big deal, you know? And then for every birthday for five years, they donated money on my behalf." Molly's smile turned into a frown slowly. "Then Mum started getting sick and passed, and then Dad got sick…I was in Uni, so I couldn't really afford to donate money. And now," she let out a soft laugh, "I have other things to pay for, which sadly take precedence."

She was quiet for a moment as she drifted into her own thoughts.

After several minutes of silence, Sherlock asked, "You care about the whales?"

Molly nodded her head absentmindedly. It took her a moment to focus on Sherlock again. "I do. I don't know if you've ever noticed, but I always take a long weekend in the spring? For the past few years, you've always had cases out of London and then you were dead for awhile," she joked, "Anyway, I volunteer my time for the Whale and Dolphin Conservation. They do this convention of sorts with primary and secondary school students in Cardiff, and I help out there. It's about educating the kids on wildlife and the environment. Also, when the need has arisen, I have done lab work for them and I've assisted in a few necropsies of beached whales."

Sherlock gently massaged her temples. "I never would have deduced your involvement with that organization. I just assumed some of your books," his eyes glanced over to her numerous bookshelves flanking either side of her television, "were leftover from courses you took in school."

Molly laughed softly. "Why would a pathologist take courses on the anatomy and physiology of cetaceans?"

"I just told you, I always miss something," Sherlock reminded, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

* * *

"Your relationship ended with Sarah nearly immediately after your holiday, didn't it?"

"What? What does that—I mean—well, yes. What exactly does that have to do with this robbery?"

Sherlock was crouching on the floor of a small bookstore, a few days after his evening in with Molly. John thought Sherlock was trying to put together the puzzle of the various ripped and torn pages from six different books, but obviously he was wrong. Sherlock looked at John and rolled his eyes. "It was the bookkeeper. He hired someone to rob the place for the insurance money. Case wasn't even a three."

He stood up and looked at Lestrade. "Do you need anything else?"

"No—"

"Great. Come on John. I need your assistance on another case."

John jogged to keep up with Sherlock as he strode out of the bookstore and back to the main street. "What are you going on about? We don't have another case!"

"Of course we do," Sherlock threw out his right hand to hail a cab, "the case of Molly Hooper's birthday present. Except you can't blog about it because it's personal and our relationship hasn't been revealed to the public—hopefully it never will be in public—and as I stated earlier, I need your assistance."

John smiled broadly. Helping Sherlock begin his relationship and then sustaining it had quickly become John's favorite bonding activity…or at least, John bonded and Sherlock got increasingly more annoyed.

"Oh stop that!"

"What?"

"Taking joy in my pain!"

Sherlock clamped his jaw shut and didn't say a word while they were in the cab. He tried resolutely to ignore John's grin for most of the trip back to Baker Street, but he scoffed, huffed, and crossed his arms over his chest at least a dozen times.

"I shouldn't be having so much fun, but…" John said with a giggle, climbing out of the cab and following Sherlock. "I just love finally being better than you at something."

"You're better at planning presents than me?"

"No!" John cried, trying to keep his giggles at bay. "I'm all around better at dating than you."

Sherlock grunted and unlocked the door to his flat. He climbed the stairs two at a time and threw open the door, immediately going to his couch and throwing himself on it, leaving his coat and shoes on.

"Oh, don't have a sulk! I was just joking." John sat down in the chair that he used to call his own and stared at his best friend. "So what about this case with Molly? What exactly do you need help doing?"

"I was considering a holiday, but if you have had—"

"The holiday I went on with Sarah was a last ditch effort to salvage our relationship."

"So there is no correlation with breakups and holidays?"

"No, not really," John said. "And Mary and I have gone on plenty of trips, even before we were married."

Sherlock stared at the ceiling for several long minutes, and then he cleared his throat. "Okay. Then if our relationship is at no risk for ending any time soon, a holiday would suffice for a good birthday present…"

John watched him for a moment and then sighed. "I don't know if that was a question or not, but holidays are always a good idea. Except you've never taken a holiday in your entire life and Molly would need to make a request months in advance to get a week or two off."

"I think I can arrange for two weeks off for Molly. As for me, we will just have to do something not boring and supplement some of our time with sex. I'll be fine."

John rolled his eyes. "Well what does she like?"

"I'm not going to divulge that information! Molly is a very private person, John Watson!"

"That's not what I—you're teasing me, aren't you?! You giant dick!" He threw a well-aimed union jack pillow and hit Sherlock in the face. "Now do you want my help or not?"

Sherlock sighed and clutched the pillow to his chest. "I want your help," he grumbled. He waited for a few more seconds and then said, "I just recently learned that she really likes whales."

"Well, that's easy enough!" John said, leaning back in his seat. "Take her whale watching."

Sherlock jumped to his feet so fast, John was sure that he was going to be dizzy. "That is brilliant John! You're a genius!"

* * *

"Doctor Hooper! Wait!"

Molly Hooper just finished buttoning her coat and was about to exit St. Bart's. She was hoping to leave on time so she could shower and prepare for dinner out with Sherlock, John, Mary, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson. She turned on her heel and saw Mike Stamford with a clipboard and papers. _'Please not an autopsy, please!'_ Molly thought to herself, before smiling at Mike.

"You need to sign a few of these papers—I forgot to have you sign them when you requested the next two weeks off."

"I'm sorry?" she asked, her brow furrowing. She knew she asked for her birthday off, at the insistence of Sherlock, but there must have been an error. She never took a holiday. "I didn't—"

"Ah! Doctor Hooper! You must hurry or we'll miss our check in for the train!"

Molly pivoted on her heel to see Sherlock striding towards her, looking uncharacteristically normal with jeans and a thick navy jumper. Old trainers adorned his feet. After gapingly staring at him for a moment she turned back to her supervisor and took the paperwork to sign. He smiled at her pleasantly and said, "Have a nice holiday!" before turning around and going to his office.

"Sherlock, what is this?"

Sherlock put his hands on her shoulders and directed her towards the exit. He didn't say anything until they were safely in the back of a cab, racing to the train.

"I've planned the perfect excursion for your birthday."

"The perfect excursion?" Molly echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Yes."

Molly frowned slightly. "I can't really afford to—"

"All taken care of."

"But—"

"Molly, please. Just trust me. This will be one of your best birthday presents ever."

Molly hesitated for another moment before sighing and leaning her head against Sherlock's shoulder. "I take it you packed my luggage?"

"Yes."

"What are we doing?"

Sherlock was quiet a moment and Molly tilted away from Sherlock to eye him carefully. He avoided her gaze for a few moments before sighing and looking at her. "I purchased the first three Free Willy films. We'll be watching them on the train on our way to Norway. We'll be taking the Eurostar. A few men owed me some favors, so our travel and lodging is free."

"We're going to Norway?" Molly asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What's in Norway?"

"The waters around the Lofoten islands are rich in nutrients and herring. There is a group—family—pod?—pod of killer whales who follow the shoals of fish. We're going to whale watch for a few days. I know you've participated in research but you've never actually seen these animals in the wild. I've also organized a lunch with Doctor Ingrid Visser who has been in the country for several months doing research and—OH!" He was cut off when Molly pulled his head down and kissed him.

When they broke away from the kiss, Molly's eyes were sparkling. "You did this for me?"

"I owe you my life. The least I could do was make our first joint celebration of your birthday as wonderful as possible."

Molly's smile grew even bigger. "I've wanted to meet Doctor Visser for years. Oh God. Sherlock, thank you! Thank you so much!"

The rest of their cab ride was made in nearly companionable silence, Molly occasionally disrupting the quiet with her squeals of excitement.

Sherlock just observed her quietly, pleased that this was going to be a satisfying holiday for the two of them.

_Fin._

* * *

BB/N: Well…I've been gone for quite awhile. Between babysitting quite a bit, job hunting, dealing with student loan debt/stress, and overall life, I haven't had much time to write. But things are looking up, and I hope I'll be able to finish this One-a-Day Challenge soon enough!

Also, in case you're wondering, I 100% made up that convention in Cardiff, but Doctor Ingrid Visser is real (and entirely brilliant), as well as the Dolphin and Whale Conservation, Free Willy (which is my favorite movie ever!), and the random fact about the killer whales in Norway.

I am a lover of all things cetacean, and I have a headcanon that sweet Molly Hooper is passionate about the gentle giants too!

Happy Halloween!

-Janet


End file.
